How to Disappear Completely and Never Be Found
by Strange Harbor
Summary: Gaara awaits his fate in a cage of his own design and the girl on the other side of the door wants to know why.
1. One

The girl came on the night of the full moon.

There were no windows in Gaara's cell, but he could feel it. Before he would have been roaming the desert. At this time of night the sands would doubtlessly have been colored red many times over.

Now Gaara settled for leaning against the wooden wall, legs crossed in front of him. His bound hands lay in his lap and he ached to crack his knuckles to get rid of the fervent restlessness in his bones. This was the hardest part, he decided.

For one week he had sat in a dark and quiet cell. He was bereft of sand and the leaf shinobi had been careful to remove even the smallest speck of dirt they could find. Shukaku slept, unwilling and unamused, and not long after Gaara thought that he'd probably be able to sleep too.

He did not.

But he wondered if this was not unlike being inside a tea kettle. Waiting in the dark for someone to open the lid, every thought and action building up to only one objective. Shukaku had wanted him to escape, had roared at him as the wood wrapped around his falling body when they were captured.

Escape had never been the objective.

Gaara just had to be patient. He had to bite his tongue and still his hands. He rested and watched out for the perfect opportunity.

And listened to the faint footsteps drawing towards his door.

An assassin? It was probable with the state he'd left Sunagakure in. If they wanted to kill him they'd have to open the door and if they opened the door they would ruin everything.

Gaara rose to his feet, chains clinking softly against each other. Weaponless, vulnerable, and calm, he stood.

The intruder stopped in front of his cell.

Gaara strained his ears to catch the faintest sound of them breathing. The chains around his wrists could be used as a makeshift garrote. He still had his trump card.

It would be over in less than a second.

"Hey, are you awake?"

The voice belonged to a girl, or maybe a young woman. Someone stupid enough to not read his files and ask him that of all things. Decidedly not an assassin.

"You're Sabaku no Gaara." she said. It was strange to hear his name spoken without fear or wariness. Weightless, another name among many. He shivered.

"I mean of course you are. If you weren't you wouldn't be here. You know everybody's talking about you and what you did." The door groaned as the girl leant against it. "Talking about why you did it."

The news of his infamy was a salve for the week of monotony. He was not forgotten. He was not forgotten.

"I couldn't care less," Gaara said.

"Yeah well I do." Then much quieter, "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

It was always going to be like this. A road paved with the blood of his mother, Yashamaru, and all those who dared stand in his way. A road Gaara would have ended up walking down regardless of Temari's situation and Kankuro's cowardice. Because he was alive and his father had drilled into him that all things had value. His life was worth nothing if he had not ended up in this cell.

The scar on his forehead, the new mark that burned on his forearm, and the howling in his blood, relentless and eager- they all led here, to a monster listening to a girl on the other side of the door.

It was always going to be like this.

"Hey. Do you-" she paused, considered her words. The girl almost sounded nervous. Too nervous to ask him a question but not nervous enough to consider against traipsing around in Konoha's underground starting up conversations with prisoners.

"Do I what?" Gaara asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Do you remember me?"

There was hope now, and an accusation ringing in her words. Gaara closed his eyes and thought back to two weeks ago. He remembered the blood, the outrage and a smile like war. He remembered further back to his father's hand on his shoulder and anticipation in his eyes. He remembered what it meant to be the strongest.

Determined, she continued, every word growing louder until she was shouting. "It was a long time ago. And I didn't know your name then but you knew me. You knew about me. You knew more about me than I knew about myself. I know it was you. It had to be you."

Like Gaara owed her a response, an affirmative. The more she spoke, the greater his head throbbed. Before his fingers would have been wound up in his hair, pulling and tearing. Instead he imagined them around her neck.

" 'Cause if it's not you, then none of it makes sense. You're the only one who could- I don't know. I just need to know that I didn't make it up."

The girl stood at his door waiting for an answer he could not give.

"I don't know you."

She laughed then, loud and terrible. A harsh broken noise more akin to crying. A sound so familiar it set his teeth on edge.

Gaara bit down on the urge to snarl back at her and demand answers. The girl was a trap. An interrogator sent to lower his guard. Or maybe he had fallen asleep and this was nothing but a dream.

Because no one would willingly seek him for something as simple as this.

And no one would sound so sad when he failed to remember them.

"Yes," she said finally, " _you do_."

Anger mixed with incomprehension in his gut. She was wrong, she had to be. But Gaara didn't say that. He didn't say anything else at all even when she walked away, footsteps disappearing into silence.

xXx

That should have been it. The story should have ended right there with Gaara in an isolation so familiar it had grown comfortable. He expected nothing less.

But the next night, the girl came back.

"It's pouring out there. I bet you haven't even seen rain have you?"

As if she had every right to be there.

He glared at the door between them. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

The girl laughed. She laughed loud, vibrant and completely unlike herself from the night before. There was no doubt in his mind that she smiled when she said, "No, I don't."

A switch had been flipped in their hours apart. Whatever memory haunted her had fled and in its place left a strange annoying girl who didn't know when enough was enough.

Every night afterward, she came again and again.

She never stopped talking. Whether it was to tell him tall tales of her missions or badgering him with nonsensical questions ranging anywhere from whether he'd ever seen rain to his opinion on ramen, it didn't matter to her.

"What are you hoping to achieve?" he asked one night, interrupting an exuberant retelling of how she had rescued a princess.

"What d'ya mean?"

"Do you think I'll remember you if you keep coming here?"

"Dunno, but it can't hurt can it?" she said, "Maybe I just like talking to you."

Gaara refused to say another word to her for the next three nights.

Nevertheless, she persisted.

The girl was a dream he did not know how to wake up from.

Gaara could not remember her.

He didn't want to.

Sometimes things were meant to be forgotten. Memories were wounds that refused to be left alone. Recalling the past was like peeling off a scab and watching the blood drip. Sometimes wounds never heal.

So perhaps she was a relative of one of his victims or someone who'd witnessed his carnage. An assassin trying to earn his trust before unzipping a jacket full of explosive tags. Maybe she wasn't even real at all.

It didn't matter that she was different than the ones who came before. That she still hadn't asked him the one question she should have. The question that had Sunagakure and Konohagakure running around in circles, eyeing each other distrustfully.

She would ask and then she would be like everyone else. It was just a matter of time. All he had was time.

If the girl wanted to come night after night, she could. If Gaara leaned against the door and listened to her, it wouldn't matter. If he thought about it, it was probably the closest he'd been to another person in years.

It still didn't mean anything at all.

It only became dangerous when he grew curious. The way her footsteps woke up the unfettered version of himself. The silent stalk toward her when she called his name. _Control, control, control,_ he repeated in his head, while his blood churned.

The full moon had longed passed, but the girl was bright and it was so dark in his cell.

There was a thousand reasons, a hundred warnings and one ultimate goal that should have kept him quiet.

 **Trouble** , Shukaku muttered in a rare moment of consciousness, **She's trouble.**

Another night. Another moment where a boy and a girl sit back to back. Another headache blooming underneath his scar as he struggled to understand. Another one sided conversation where the girl rambled on and on about everything that didn't matter.

Only she didn't. She hadn't said a single word.

Somehow the silence was so much more unbearable than the noise. It knotted and twisted his insides. The jaws of a trap snapped shut.

 _It didn't mean anything._

"Why are you doing this?" Gaara asked.

She mumbled,"I told you-"

"No you didn't." He should have stopped there, should never have started. He didn't shout. He kept his voice low and cold, words sharp enough to cut. "You come here with stories and distractions. What are you running away from?"

The girl roared to her feet, snarling. "I'm not running away from anything!"

"You haven't told me your name."

"What?"

"You want me to remember you, but you never said who you were. You're a coward and a liar. A pathetic little girl who's so lonely she seeks out a monster for company."

Belatedly he realized he was angry and that made him furious. He shouldn't have felt anything. She didn't matter. It didn't matter. None of it mattered.

Namikaze Minato mattered.

"Do you want me to leave?" the girl asked.

And Gaara stopped. Unclenched his fists. Breathed.

"I want the truth."

She was quiet for a moment. "I don't know how to explain it. I just can't leave you alone. I mean, you're here in this cage meant for- meant for someone else. I don't understand it anymore than you do."

A cage meant for a jinchuuriki. There it was, just a slight spark of memory within reach. A different girl, a different time. He let it go.

"I told you before that you knew me," she said, "But I don't know you Gaara.

"I don't know why you killed your dad or why it had to be here. The only thing I know is that you're here because you want to be. I don't understand why. I need to know why."

Gaara leaned back to stare at the dark ceiling. If the door behind him was transparent, he wondered if it would be a window or a mirror.

"How would that change anything?"

But the girl was relentless, so ridiculously stubborn. "What do you have to lose?"

In the end wasn't he just trying to do the same thing? He had the same fervent desire to simply know why. A boy asking questions upon questions. _Yashamaru why is the sky blue? What does it hurt right here? Why don't I have a mother? What is love? How do I get it?_

 _Why do I exist?_

Here, there was a connection between them, thin as a thread but undeniable. A soft whisper of _maybe, maybe._ An echo of something forgotten.

Here, the Yondaime's mark inked across his forearm. All the little and big lines spelling out death.

Here, at the beginning and end of everything, there was nothing left to lose.

"Who are you?" he asked finally.

"Uzumaki Naruto."


	2. Two

The trick to staying awake was to keep herself busy.

Tonight this meant making an egg sandwich at an ungodly hour. Naruto watched the yolk sizzle. It hissed as it burned. Still she could just faintly make out the sound of raindrops hitting the roof.

Thinking about the rain was asking for a downward spiral she would never be ready for. So Naruto thought about the boy in the cage. The boy who didn't sleep and the girl who didn't want to. What a pair they were.

She wondered what he did in these in between hours where time stretched and things became either very quiet or too loud. Naruto could ask. He might even answer.

" _What are you running away from?"_

Nothing. Everything. Could it even be called running to begin with? Naruto was frozen here. The things she had done, and the thing she hadn't told anyone yet rooted her in this spot. Close to home yet so far away. It made her very tired.

Naruto closed her eyes. The rain pattered. The egg burned. The boy waited downstairs in a cage her father had made for her.

"What are you doing?" murmured a low voice in her ear.

Naruto swung the pan around to clock the intruder in the head but watched it pass through harmlessly. He grinned insufferably.

"Obito- _what the hell?_ "

Obito laughed. "You're the one who let me sneak up on you."

"You used your swirly eye magic jutsu!" She glared at the mess that was her meal splattered across the floor. "Look at what you made me do."

"Oh that? I did you a favor. It's basically inedible at this point." He took the pan from her, "Let me do it and stop moping ok?"

"I'm not moping." Naruto said, moving to lean on the counter. Obito gave her a look that said they both knew better.

He puttered about the small kitchen. Mismatched hands added bacon and cracked open eggs. It was a familiar scene played out throughout her childhood. It wasn't that her and Minato were bad cooks, but rather that Obito spun every meal with his own brand of magic. It was comforting to smell the delicious aroma drifting from the pan and see his easy smile. Many mornings in Naruto's childhood passed like this. She went three years without this.

Obito squawked when Naruto suddenly hugged him. She buried her face into his back and squeezed hard.

"Naruto?"

" I missed you, you know?" she mumbled.

A hand fell upon her hair and ruffled it affectionately. "I missed you too kid."

"Ero-sennin-" She started.

"I know." The smile faded making his scars more prominent. Obito always insisted they made him ruggedly handsome. Naruto thought they made him look old and weary. They lined his face like pages of a story no one ever told.

"I have to tell Dad." She let go and her arms dropped to her sides. "It was my fault, you know. If I had just-"

If Naruto had just listened to Jiraiya. If she had been strong enough. If she could control the burning anger in her gut then maybe everything would be different.

If her dad had never sent her away in the first place, then maybe Jiraiya would be alive.

Obito set down a plate on table. "Eat first. We'll worry about everything else later ok?"

"You're not eating?" _You're already leaving?_

"I was only stopping in to check on you. Everyone's been working double time since the Kazekage was murdered." He sighed. "If we're not careful we could go to war."

"Dad won't let that happen."

"I won't let it happen." Obito said. "Especially not because of some brat who lost control and killed his own father."

Her fingers clenched. "Gaara didn't lose control. He planned this. He's here because he wants to be."

Obito frowned. "You think that he chose to assassinate the Kazekage during the Chunin Exam, an event ,mind you, with our heaviest security protocols. He chose to attack with Sensei and his guard standing right next to them."

It would have been so much easier to kill the Kazekage in Sunagakure. So why here? Why now? Why at all in fact?

"You don't understand," Naruto said pacing. "Just because we don't know why doesn't mean he's crazy. Or that he lost control. I'm telling you, Gaara wanted this."

"Then he should be over the moon with joy. His fate remains the same."

She looked away from him. "Are they going to kill him?"

Obito was quiet for a long moment. Every second of silence stretched between them. They stood in a replica of the home she loved. Same layout of the kitchen. All the shelves stocked with spices in all the same places. Her room was virtually identical to the one in Konoha. One of various safe houses scattered around the country. It should be warm and comforting, but it felt like being trapped on the wrong side of a mirror.

Obito watched her cautiously. Something he had never bothered with before.

"He's not like you Naruto. You two are different." he said.

"That's bulllshit Obito, and you know it."

"Would you kill Minato?" he asked.

"I would never have to!" Naruto shouted. " I was lucky. I've got you, Dad, Sasuke, Sakura, Kakashi-sensei and loads of other people. I don't think he had anyone. That's the only difference. Me and him, we're exactly the same."

She straightened and looked Obito dead in the eye. "I won't let you kill him."

He held his hands up in mock surrender, "It's not me you'll have to stop. This whole thing is a mess spiraling out of control. All the missing Jinchuuriki, the Akatsuki and now a Kage dead." He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You know you can't save him." Obito said gently, "You don't need to waste your time picking apart his motivations. You said it yourself, he wanted this. Go home. See your team. Pick up where you left off."

Two and a half weeks ago, she would have jumped at the chance. Naruto never wanted to leave in the first place. Being away from home split her heart in two and the eventual return did nothing to soothe the ache.

Here was Obito, her big brother in all but blood doing his best to close the distance between them.

Somewhere Kakashi sensei lounged, idly flicking through his book. She wanted to show him how much better she'd gotten.

Somewhere Sakura and Sasuke were still waiting for her. Maybe they had even forgiven her.

Somewhere her dad was doing his best to keep them from war, even if that meant only seeing her once since she had returned.

Below her, Gaara remained in the cage. Both jinchuuriki. Both the children of Kage. Both even around the same age. The same cage made for _her_ used for him. On one side of a mirror she could see herself and on the other-

Naruto knocked Obito's hand away. "You know I don't go back on my word."

Naruto was going to find out why. She had to. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if she let him slip away.

Obito smiled tightly and backed away. Chakra swirled and distorted the space around him. "You're wrong," He said as he vanished. "I do understand. The difference is I know what happens next."

She stared at the spot where he stood before glancing at the food he left behind. Her stomach gurgled. Naruto left the plate where it lay and made her way into her room.

Nine pictures embedded in poster board greeted her. Six men. Three women. All of them hosts of a demon. In the three years since she'd left Konoha, seven had gone missing. Only Naruto and Killer B of Kumogakure were left. But then one reappeared.

Two years ago, Jiraiya and her had trekked to Sunagakure to warn them about Akatsuki. Gaara had already disappeared a mere two days before their arrival and no one knew where he had gone.

Twelve years ago, she was a small wild thing hanging off of Obito's shoulders on a diplomatic voyage to the desert. Twelve years ago, a boy showed up on the other side of the door and she was the one who listened.

It had to be him.

She turned on the tv and inserted a tape. The picture flickered into existence. It was already rewound back to the part she's been rewatching over and over. Gaara stood at attention next to his father, the duo looking down at the fight below them. Her dad and several anbu stood to their left.

Played in real time, there is almost no indication of what is about to happen. For one second Gaara stands, arms crossed, as disinterested as he could be. In the next he is covered in blood, sand raging throughout the box, the Kazekage nothing more than a stain beneath him.

Naruto rewound again and pressed play. The smallest movement of his eyes is what gave Gaara away. She paused the video and there he was. Green eyes stared directly into the camera. His father murmured something to him, but Gaara did not look away. Five seconds he looked into the camera. Five seconds before he began his carnage.

The first time Naruto saw it, she thought about how lonely his eyes looked. How angry.

Now she saw something different. Determination. A fire smoldered there. Steady and unyielding. Gaara was a perfect picture of control. No rampaging monster stared like that. No, those five seconds were a moment to rethink and change his mind. Gaara rose his head to his would be observer and made a choice and no one but him knew exactly what that was.

Twelve years ago, he warned her. Two years ago, he disappeared. Two weeks ago, he reappeared and murdered his own father and then let himself be captured.

"I'm not letting you get away this time." Naruto said to the frozen boy on screen. "I'm going to figure out everything. I swear it."

There in the dim glow of the television, her shadow shifted. Tenebrous shapes grew large and unfathomable. A sinister outline that vanished the second she turned around. A presence that hung around her neck like a noose.

Down below in the cage, the boy lifted his head.

xXx

Sometimes keeping herself busy meant flipping through bingo books. Minato had held it open the first time, large gentle hands next to her grubby ones.

"Mom's in here?"

"Here." Minato turned to her page. " Uzumaki Kushina."

Kushina grinned at the photographer with a ferocity so tangible it made Naruto quirk her own lips. Her mom has got long red hair, so different from Naruto's short spiky blonde. But she thought- she hoped- that they had the same smile.

"She's so pretty Dad." Naruto gushed. "And awesome, and happy, and amazing."

Minato agreed softly, "She was."

Naruto pointed to the next entry, his entry. "You're here too! Not as cool as Mom but you got a nickname. Why doesn't she have one? Am I in the book? Can I be in here?"

"I'm sure you will be in here one day." Minato pressed a kiss on her forehead. "But not yet. This is for famous shinobi. It's a collection of them and who you ought to know if you ever come across them."

"So all the cool people are in here? Yeah I'm definitely gonna get in here. Just watch me!"

He pulled the book out of her hands. "It's not a book of 'cool people' Naruto. It is a book of dangerous people."

But Naruto wasn't listening to him.

And in the present moment, the book she held wasn't the one he showed her long ago.

This was a very recent book and someone had written the entry on one of the blank pages in back along with an artist's drawing of the ninja.

Red eyes glowed malevolently from the page. Hair whipped around their shoulders and they bared their teeth. Three vicious streaks cut into both sides of the face. Maybe, if looked at from far away this was what they looked like. No one could have gotten closer.

This was what it looked like to lose control.

At the bottom of the entry lay her moniker.

 _Godslayer._

xXx

Sometimes there was no way to keep herself busy. Naruto could pace. She could rewatch the tape again. She could look through the books. She could argue over and over with herself about going back home to see if it was still _home._

Still, Naruto always found herself descending the stairway, questions burning on her tongue.

" Uzumaki Naruto." Gaara said by way of greeting.

Gaara was in the bingo book of course. This thing between them had always been dangerous. And she had told him her name.

"Gaara."

"I still don't remember you." he said. His voice grew quieter. "I might never remember you."

' _You're not like them and you never will be._ ' said the memory.

"You will." Naruto insisted.

He didn't argue with her. She heard him settle against the door, they sat back to back again.

"Uzumaki Naruto," he repeated in that peculiar way of his. "Say it. Ask me."

Naruto stared ahead. The wood behind her steadily drained away chakra.

"Did you always know you were…" her mouth twisted around the hated word, "a jinchuuriki?"

The answer came quickly, in a snarl. "No."

 _Yeah, me either._

"My father told me when I was old enough to become his tool." A quiet menace lurked behind his words. "He spoiled me. He gave me whatever I wanted and taught me high level ninjutsu. However I was...unstable. He has tried to kill me since I was six. I am his failure and all he has ever wanted was for me to disappear.

"I stole the life of my mother and now I've stolen my father's. I was born a monster. Is that enough reason for you Uzumaki Naruto?"

She imagined him. A small boy alone in the desert, curled in upon himself. A boy who decided that it was best for him to vanish from a world that didn't want him. A boy who against all expectations returned home.

Between them lay doors, cages, bodies, and mirrors. Always a constant barrage of 'what-ifs' every time she considered his situation. She understood it so much it actually hurt.

"Do you regret it? Killing your father?"

Gaara stopped and considered. "He wouldn't have."

"I'm not asking him. I'm asking you." Naruto said, " So do you?"

He went quiet and unlike when Obito stood in silence earlier, it only served to remind her how close together they were. Obito said she couldn't save him, but she couldn't just give up on people. That was stupid. She always, always had to try.

Especially now. Especially for Gaara.

"Yes." he murmured as one does with secrets. "I do."

"Then-"

"I would regret letting him live more." The confession made his voice low, but not any nicer than usual. "There are things that I couldn't allow him to do. If I ran away then I would have been attacked by a greater sadness. I will not run away anymore."

Her hands balled up involuntarily. "And not running away got you here."

"As running away got you here." Gaara retorted.

"So what then? What's the solution? Because here we both are. Does it matter what we choose if we end up in the same spot?"

"You can leave."

"You think it's that simple?"

Chains rustled, but he did not reply.

"Because it's not the easy ok? I can't just pretend like stuff never happened. Everything is different now. _I'm_ different."

"Do you regret it?" Gaara asked.

Always, always. "Of course."

" _I've got one last mission for you kid."_

"Then do what you have to. You are not a prisoner Naruto. You have a choice."

And disagreeing meant giving up. Maybe she got a little lost between Amegakure and home but she was still terrible at giving up. Maybe Naruto couldn't make things right. But she had to try.

"Yeah." she said, "Neither are you."

"No," he agreed. "I am not."

Naruto stood. Sleep still terrified her. She still needed to figure Gaara out. Everyone was still waiting for her. She refused to be still any longer. A small step was all it took to start running.

"Just because I'm leaving for a bit doesn't mean I'm gone for good you know. I'll come back."

"I know." Gaara said softly, "You always do."


	3. Three

The first time Gaara met Namikaze Minato he was a little less than seven glaring at the Hokage and his entourage as they encroached upon his city.

The leaf shinobi continued down the main road under the combined scrutiny of Sunagakure. His father stood ready to meet them while Gaara and siblings watched from the balcony above. Kankuro and Temari took care to remain at least several yards away from him at all times as they whispered to each other.

"He doesn't look special. " Kankuro muttered. " Dad could take him."

"It's not about looks. They say he moves so fast you can't even see him." Temari said.

"Big shame for you huh? He looks like one of those pretty boy heroes in those movies you watch."

Temari smacked Kankuro and hissed. "Shut up!"

"So he is the strongest?" Gaara asked, eyes trained on the Hokage. The man wore an easygoing smile as he shook hands with the Kazekage. Kankuro was right. Nothing remarkable stood out. But a knot of unease slowly swirled inside Gaara.

Temari looked at him from the corner of her eye. "That's what they all say. A thousand shinobi gone in just a flash. If he touches you then - well even you'd be as good as dead, Gaara."

He scowled at her and Temari skittered back a few feet. He started to snarl that there was no way that would happen when Shukaku began to scream.

A high pitched whine escalated into a full on roar of rage that brought Gaara to his knees. Palms pressed into his eyes. Fingers twisted in his hair. His body shook and shook. His head filled with nothing but pain and noise.

The demon spewed an incoherent babble. Words were devoured before they could even be understood. Something about a fox and a girl.

"Slower," Gaara said. "Slower and quieter."

'Look!' Shukaku seethed. 'Look down there you maggot!'

Gaara peeked between his fingers down below.

A blond girl sat on the shoulders of a dark haired man. She looked up at Gaara with a smile and waved.

The unease churned faster. The pieces were lining up. A sick sense of deja vu gripped him.

' **Jinchuuriki**.'

Gaara knew the end to this story. He dropped a hand to clutch at the ache in his chest.

' **Kill her. Kill her! Kill her!** '

Shukaku degenerated into a screaming fit. Gaara still shook and shook. The girl was nothing like him. Not yet. Maybe never. She didn't have to mean anything to him at all.

But then he met the Hokage's eyes and saw that they just as blue as Yashamaru's.

xXx

The next time there were footsteps at his door, it was not Uzumaki Naruto.

The man opened the cell and offered his hand. A swirled orange mask covered his face save for one red same man he'd stood next to weeks ago, overlooking a stadium. The Fourth Hokage's bodyguard.

Gaara rose slowly to his feet but did not take his hand. There was something just a bit off about the shinobi in front of him. From the mask that covered a well known face to the hand extended towards him. Uchiha Obito looked at him, not like a prisoner, and not even as a monster. Obito looked at him like he was expecting to find someone else instead.

"Are you going to come here or do we have to do this the hard way?"

Gaara reluctantly stepped forward, the older man clasping a hand firmly on his shoulder as he did so. The Sharingan began to spin and the world around them spun in turn. Space time ninjutsu made Gaara feel small, as if he needed to pass through the head of a needle. Even this strange method made his skin itch. He would never get used to it.

In an instant, Gaara found himself thrown roughly into an interrogation room. Obito stared at him from the table he'd claimed as a seat. He propped up his head with a hand, mask tilted lazily to one side of his now uncovered face.

"What exactly is so special about you?" Uchiha Obito asked, "What makes you any different from the other jinchuuriki?"

"I am alive." Gaara replied. "And I am not going to disappear."

Not when he was so close.

The single eye narrowed, a bright scarlet warning. "You already have. Your family wants nothing to do with you. Your country cares only for the demon inside you. You will die unremarkable and forgotten. What a tragedy."

Gaara stared impassively at him, but couldn't help grinding his teeth together. Naruto would remember him. She would definitely remember him.

"You died a long time ago, Sabaku no Gaara." Obito said without malice. For a moment the man looked deeply unhappy. An uncomfortable moment where he stared not at Gaara, but directly through. Then he pulled the mask back over his face.

"You shouldn't indulge Naruto anymore. Let her walk away."

"I've never once stopped her."

Obito shook his head. "But wouldn't you?"

The door behind him opened, several shinobi filing in and surrounding the two of them. The Uchiha made his exit in another whorl of distortion. That was fine. Gaara didn't have an answer to his question anyway.

He knew that the thread between him and Naruto felt taut, but he did not know how to fix it. Walking away wasn't an option anymore.

xXx

Gaara spent the next three days in the interrogation room. The Konoha ninja came and asked their questions, then left and returned with more. They treated him decently and seemed satisfied with what they had gotten out of him so far. And why wouldn't they? All he had to do was tell the truth.

Said, "I hated my father. Always have."

Said, "He tried to have me killed since I turned six."

Said, "He was going to betray our alliance. He would have given the order to invade if I hadn't killed him beforehand."

Said, "I don't care about Leaf. I would have killed any of you. I wanted him dead more."

The thing about being a jinchuuriki was that when you told people you were a monster, they believed you. They didn't think to look underneath the underneath. Any files Suna provided plus his testimony painted a clear enough picture. A dangerously unstable individual with no loyalty to kin or country.

No one would ever know what he wanted.

The next round began a little differently.

Gaara sat bound in a chair across from a heavily scarred man. On the table between them was a file. Gaara looked at his own face sneering at him from the picture on the front.

"Sabaku no Gaara."

The man was Morino Ibiki, the commanding officer of Konoha's Torture and Interrogation Force. His bingo book entry contained the story of a Kirigakure squad who'd killed themselves before letting him have their hands on them. A man like this could be feared.

Gaara stared at him blankly.

"Sabaku no Gaara," Ibiki repeated. " Sixteen years old. Jounin of Sunagakure. One brother, one sister. Youngest of the three. Son of the Kazekage. Jinchuuriki of the Ichibi."

He went down the list emotionlessly, his dark eyes on Gaara the entire time.

"So tell me, why are you here Gaara?"

Gaara looked at his interrogator and wondered if he could tell Gaara had been on the other side of the table.

He had been young, no older than eight. His father brought him before a woman chained to a chair and told him to make her talk. Gaara knew nearly nothing of finesse or control at that point. But he knew pain. He knew that her screams when he crushed both her legs excited him. Before he could stop it, sand rushed engulfed her and resulting mess covered him in blood.

His father had merely frowned and tried again and again. _Control yourself_ , he said. _Control yourself Gaara_. The _or else_ was a threat unspoken and understood.

He might as well have asked Gaara bring his uncle back to life. Control was not for those who had something wild in their soul. A wild thing with sharp teeth and a hunger so terrible the world itself recoiled from him. A void trembled and shook in his small pale frame. It wanted and wanted. He wanted and wanted.

He wanted _more._

The sand was in tune with him, eager to please. It acted on the smallest of thoughts and catered to his needs. It upset the demon in his belly to see him using its techniques. It tormented him and raged that it did not care for a single one of his wants and what did wanting more even mean to begin with.

Ten years old and a trail of bodies behind him, Gaara didn't know.

He had stood in front of the latest prisoner his father watching closely behind him. Gaara felt the weight of his gaze and an all too familiar fear engulfed him. If he failed this time his father would kill him. He started slowly with questions, and then threats. He removed a finger and then a second. The prisoner cried. Tears fell down onto the table without ceremony. Gaara grit his teeth and continued on even as the howling in his veins rose to dangerous heights.

The blood would soothe the ringing in his head and he wanted that. But he also wanted to live. As he cut away eyelids he held onto only that. He wanted to live. He wanted to live.

Maybe control meant wanting something so badly that it eclipsed everything else.

Now he sat across from a man who thought he could scare him. A man whose job was to break him open and take everything inside. A man who would never understand the whys and reasons. A man destined to fail.

Gaara stayed silent and kept his eyes on Morino's.

"Fine. Let's switch it up." He withdrew several more files. "Maybe you can help us with this."

Red clouds on a black background covered one file. _Akatsuki._ The ones who hunted monsters. Morino pointed to the man who had almost hunted Gaara down two years ago.

"What can you tell me about Deidara?"

Deidara was the assassin who was the first one to ever get his past his defenses. He grinned even as sand tore his arm off. Explosions rocked the sky. Gaara fell to the desert. The impossible now terrifying inevitable.

Deidara was not the beginning, merely a turning point.

Gaara said, "You know more than I do. He came for me, and he failed. I haven't seen him again or any of the other members."

"But it is strange. Right after Deidara fled, you were already gone. You ran and hid before they could send anyone else after you."

"I did not hide. I left."

"Why?"

All he had to do was tell the truth. "Because there was nothing left for me in Suna. They left me to die."

Morino frowned. "So you left them. You vanished so deep into the desert that no one could find you. Not the Akatsuki who hunted and killed at least six jinchuuriki since you left. Not your village who seemed content that you were gone. Not your family, who you claim to hate.

"Then," he continued, "why come back at all? Would you really give up your sanctuary for a grudge? Why didn't you kill him before you left the village if it mattered so much? Your story isn't adding up Gaara."

Someone could look underneath the underneath after all.

Gaara reached for that constant howling in his blood. He let it transform his face into a snarling smile. It would only take one lie.

"My father sent someone looking for me and I found them. He wanted his weapon back for his war. That's all I ever was to them. So I came back. I didn't even have to earn his trust. He made me his main guard, because no one was better suited. I showed everyone exactly how weak and naive he was."

Gaara leaned closer. "My father created me with the intent I become the strongest shinobi. But when I became too strong ,he wanted me to disappear. So for what reason do I exist? Why am I alive? I needed a reason to keep on living otherwise I might as well be dead. For two years I forgot that reason. But then I remembered. 'I exist to kill all other humans besides myself'. I only fight for myself and I only love myself. As long as I kill others to magnify that love, then I will not cease to exist."

Morino gripped the file tighter than he had before. A look of distaste crossed his face as he opened the second file.

"What about her?" he asked.

A file of monsters. Pictures of Gaara and Shukaku. A blond woman and a flaming cat. The Mizukage and a turtle. One tails, two tails, three tails. But Morino gestured toward the bottom. Nine tails. The smile slipped from Gaara's face.

' _Did you always know you were a jinchuuriki?'_

His heart began to pound. He closed his eyes. The thread was more than taut. It was razor sharp and held to his neck.

It all began here.

Gaara opened his eyes. He looked at the jinchuuriki of the nine tailed fox. He looked at Uzumaki Naruto.

It all began to make sense.

He could ask her the same question she had asked him, but he already knew the answer. Naruto hadn't known, that was all his fault.

He remembered everything.

Gaara closed his eyes once more, and refused to say anything else.

xXx

Fear was a terrible thing.

It turned any recollection of kindness into the sound of a jacket unzipping before the explosion. It made him cold and cruel. It changed any definitive action into a relentless assault of _what if?_

Fear drove Gaara to the girl's door ten years ago. Fear made him wait until he was sure she was alone. He stood on one side. She remained innocent and unaware on the other.

He had never wanted to save someone before. He did not even know if he could. But Gaara knocked on the door and waited. When the door threatened to open towards him he pushed it back and held it still with sand.

After all, what if she already knew? What if she wanted to kill him? This way they were both safe from each other.

The girl shouted. He had her attention.

"You're not like them and you never will be," he said.

"What?"

"You're not like them and you never will be," he repeated. "There's a monster inside you and it wants you dead. It wants everyone dead. Your Hokage, he put it in you. He made you a sacrifice. Now, you have a monster, you are a monster, and you have to fight the monster forever."

"What are you talking about? That's crazy."

"Everyone looks at you hateful. They treat you like you're something wrong. They call you names. Freak. Weirdo. Demon. They run from you."

She was quiet for a moment before she said, "That doesn't mean there's a monster in me."

"You know it's true. Did you ever wonder why the world keeps rejecting you? You ever look at the full moon and just _ache_?"

Gaara stopped for breath. He trembled. His own monster screeched at him. Fear made him want to stop. Fear kept him going.

"That's why you have to run away. You've got to get away from them. Somewhere they'll never find you."

"I can't just leave! I'm not going anywhere."

"They're going to betray you!" He shouted. "They always do. They'll say they love you and they'll trick you. They won't tell you the truth until it's too late. Because he never loved you. Because you can't love monsters. The hokage's going to betray you and if you let him, he might destroy you."

 _Please._ He thought. _Please._ Over and over. If he could save someone else, then maybe-

"No. You're wrong."

"You're wrong!"

"My dad's not gonna betray me. Why are you telling me all this stupid junk? You trying to mess with me?"

He couldn't save anyone.

"Open the door and talk to me face to face, yeah?" she said, "I ain't got time for dumb stories, so open up and tell what you really want."

His pulse quickened. His heartbeats were loud enough to be deafening. What if he opened the door and something terrible happened? What if? What if? What if?

"Open the door already!"

"I won't."

"Just open it!"

She wasn't listening to him. Gaara was afraid. Beneath all the hatred, hurt, rage, cruelty, and hunger were those three words.

"If you come out here, I'll kill you. I swear it."

Gaara dropped the sand from the door and ran away before anyone saw him.

Fear was a terrible thing and he was a coward.

xXx

It had been a long time since Gaara had trembled or shook uncontrollably. He learned how to hold his body taut and unmoving. Even at his worst he defaulted towards that unnatural stillness.

That was how he was brought back to his cell. Stillness and silence. It was almost comforting.

The memory replayed over and over in his head. The wound refused to heal. What was he supposed to say to her? Nothing at all?

Gaara had already set everything in motion and even this wouldn't stop him. Naruto would hate him. She'd never forgive him. He could live with that. She would too.

It would be best if Naruto never came back to visit him. He ignored the gnawing agitation in his stomach as he imagined it. He had to let her walk away before she figured out everything. Simple enough. Let Naruto walk away. Complete the plan. It was enough.

But Gaara wanted _more_.

Sixteen years old, in a cage of his own design ,and he still didn't know what that meant.

The wood creaked and bulged in front of him. A hand punched through and the hole cracked open further. Gaara watched as a shadow drug itself from the earth below into the cell. The red cloud cloak wrapped around pure darkness and yellow eyes. It smiled at him, sharp jagged teeth forming from the blank expanse of skin.

"You are a hard man to find." it said.

The shadow exuded malevolence. From what little Gaara could sense, it didn't feel quite alive. Rather it simply played at it. A strange manifestation that had Shukaku growling.

"I don't want to fight you. I want to talk. After that you can escape no matter even if you decline."

Its presence was familiar. The shadow must have been lurking for a while. It hunted him. It hunted Naruto. Konoha had better sensors than him. They should have known. They had to have known.

"You don't have to die like the others. I can give you what you want."

"And what do I want?"

"To destroy the world."

 _Wrong._

"Not interested." Gaara said.

He raised his hands. Sand tore out from beneath his skin from where he'd hidden it in his blood. Some he sent to break his cuffs. The rest descended upon the Akatsuki.

The shadow turned tail and vanished down the tunnel it created. The sand chased it down, swelling larger as it crushed the dirt to create even more sand. It didn't catch up. The tunnel was too long. The shadow too fast.

Red dripped down from his wrists to the floor. His sand returned, hovering around him. The walls no longer sapped at his chakra.

Konoha knew. They put the two jinchuuriki in their control together on purpose. All they were was bait. In the end, they always betrayed you.

He had warned her. Maybe he could have done better. He still couldn't save her. But Gaara owed her more than standing aside and letting it happen. Do this one thing and let Naruto walk away.

Gaara turned toward the door that always sat between them and tore it from its frame. He exited the cell and made his way up the stairs. Sand dug long gashes along the walls. It shredded any pictures along the way greedily. He passed through the kitchen. Plates shattered. The furniture reduced to scrap.

He stopped in front of her room and let the sand drop. The door was slightly ajar. Gaara let himself in.

A few ramen cups claimed space on a dresser and one on the floor. Bingo books lay open stretched across a table. Above the table was a posterboard. All the jinchuuriki were on it. Only three didn't have their faces crossed out.

The bed was unmade. Gaara sat on it, staring at the posterboard. He imagined her imagining him.

The mark on his forearm burned and then there was a kunai to his throat ,and the Hokage pinning down his chest.

"Don't." Namikaze Minato said.

Gaara lay still. He glared into those blue eyes. Every second he lay there he made a promise to the other man silently. Hatred crawled up his throat, thick and acrid. A bone deep rage nearly summoned the sand back to him.

"How many times are you planning to sacrifice her?" Gaara asked.

The Hokage didn't respond. The mark burned again and Gaara found himself once more shrinking. Shooting straight through the head of a needle.

Fear was a terrible thing, but this didn't scare him. No matter where he ended up,no matter who stood in his way he had a goal.

He had to fulfill his father's dream of becoming the strongest.

He had to kill Namikaze Minato where everyone else had failed.

He had to change everything.


End file.
